


Exhausted Hearts

by actualvampirate



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cancer, Death-T, M/M, No major character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualvampirate/pseuds/actualvampirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt found on a fantastic list here: http://osborntobewild.tumblr.com/post/78287391032/obligatory-aus-i-really-want-post, where Lovino Vargas and Antonio Carriedo find themselves in an airport at 2:29 AM with exhausted hearts and weary minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [doritovargas](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=doritovargas).



> This is part of what will be two pieces, which are the two sides of the prompt, one positive one negative. This would be the negative one. Both will be relatively short.

     "So...What are you here for?" The tan speaker gave a tired smile and glanced around the dim gray airport, the sound of flickering lights muffling the whispers and quiet shuffles of other delayed passengers shifting in their chairs before his eyes returned to the young man next to him.

     Without a pause, the smaller, equally tired passenger looked steadily into the speaker's eyes and replied in a light Italian accent, "My grandfather's funeral."

     "Oh. God. I'm sorry I didn't mean to..."

     "No, no, it's fine. Don't apologize." The Italian smoothed his bangs back from his forehead, checking the clock still firmly pointed at the bizarre hours of the night and offered his other hand to the man opposite him. "Lovino, by the way. Headed to Rome."

     "Antonio. Going home in Madrid." The Spaniard shook the other's hand then sat back against his chair. He sat there for a bit then licked his lips, hesitating before he continued. "So... You and your grandfather. Did you get along?"

     The newly-"named" Lovino looked taken aback, but answered. "I think that's kind of a forward thing to ask someone, but yeah. We were pretty close." Antonio ducked his head in apology as the Italian leaned against the cracked chair behind him, staring out at the pitch-black landing strip area and a few city lights brave enough to peep through its darkness. "I mean, the guy spent half my life yelling at me. 'Lovino, clean up after yourself. Lovino, I know you can get better grades. Lovi, be kinder to your brother. Lovino, Lovino, Lovino.' I used to applaud when he'd finally quiet down. And now that he's gone.." He pulled his eyes away from the tarmac and gave a half-hearted laugh. "I'd kill for him to yell at me again, y'know?"

      Antonio nodded quietly, looking at the carpet and tracing patterns with his feet until Lovino felt compelled to ask, "So why are you here?" "Mi mama, um, I mean. My mom... she's got cancer." The Italian's eyebrows raised slightly. "Wow. Now _I'm_ sorry for asking." Antonio shrugged and continued to look down, his hands clasped in front of him. "It's kind of weird, to be honest. After a few years you kind of get used to it. Like in the movies it just kind of takes over a person's life, but it really doesn't. I mean, she lives in Spain so it's probably different, but I just kind of go about my day and usually around lunch or dinner it just kind of hits me again. It's like I'm hearing the diagnosis again every evening."

      Lovino scooted a little closer, his usually stern tongue loosened by exhaustion. "So where is it? The cancer?"

     "Um.. It's.." The man closed his eyes, pupils darting under his eyelids as if he was retracing the x-rays in his mind. "It started out as a minor thing, like just a small bit of breast cancer, but over the year it's just kinda... spread all over."

     Lovino nodded, jawline tightening. "So is she taking anything for it? I know a lot of people do chemo or experimental stuff."

     Antonio shook his head and finally looked up. "I mean we tried chemo, but the stuff she has is strong. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, it is made of her. But no, it's definitely terminal. That's why I'm going to visit her."

     The Italian rubbed a hand over his slacks distractedly. "Fuck, now I feel like shit for bringing it up. Here, we've all been here for too long without food. Can I buy you a bagel or something?"

     His conversational partner stood up and smiled. "No, but I'd be glad to walk over with you and buy my own food."

     Lovino looked irritated, "So you're not going to let me make it up to you?"

     "How about you sit next to me if our flight ever shows up, keep me entertained during the ride?"

     The amber-eyed young man kept his slight scowl. "I'd rather you just let me buy you some food, but I guess I don't really get to pick the terms. Plus you know I can't guarantee that we'll sit next to each other."

      Antonio shrugged before smiling again. "You really don't, and I guess we'll just have to see then." He pointed further down the long airport corridor. "I think I saw a bagel place just a bit down there."


	2. Chapter 2

     The Spaniard laughed as he pointed along his freckled arms. "No, I'm seriously telling you, I've got constellations in here!"

     Lovino rolled his eyes, and gestured to his acquaintance's form. "If you have this many goddamn freckles, of course you can make some constellations! That doesn't prove anything!"

     Antonio raised an eyebrow and picked up a felt pen from the cup of writing utensils near the cash register at the bagel stand they had spent the last hour and a half in. "But are other constellation imposter's freckles this perfectly spaced?" and he proceeded to slowly map out the entire night sky on his forearms, explaining each constellation and their importance to the young man across from him, who continued to shake his head in disbelief. After all was said and done, Antonio had drawn both the summer /and/ winter constellation rotations on himself, in what even Lovino had to eventually admit was pretty accurate spacing. He sat back on one of the red padded barstools in front of the stand and took a bite from his bagel, triumphant.

     The Italian checked his watch and ran a hand over his tired face, giving a passing glance to the white-tiled excuse for a "store" which, to be honest, they had been lucky was open at this hour. "Jesus, you know we started talking at 2:29?"

     Antonio leaned over, curious. "So what time is it now?"

     Lovino pulled his wrist back firmly and answered, "Just past 4:35."  

     The Spaniard leaned backwards with a groan, nearly knocking over the coffee on the counter behind him, earning a scowl from the manager. "We really should get to sleep."  

     "And miss sleeping on the plane? I'd like to avoid jet lag as much as possible, thank you very much."

     Antonio wrinkled his nose in disagreement. "I'm pretty sure that's not how jet lag works."

     Lovino turned to give a quick retort, but as soon as he opened his mouth one of the airline employees came over the intercom.

      "Passengers in Gate 18 please prepare for takeoff within the hour. Early seating is beginning in five minutes."

     Both young men sighed in relief and headed back towards their waiting area, collecting their luggage and preparing to wait in line. Looking around one last time at the grey, carpeted cell block they had all spent too long in, Lovino realized that their flight would probably be leaving with half its expected passengers. Once all organized, a distressed mother rushed up to Antonio and began to beg him to switch places so that she could sit near her children, but the Spaniard quickly calmed her.

     "I'd be glad to trade you my pass,  _Señora_ . I hope you and your family have an amazing flight." Lovino watched the scene pass appreciatively but kept quiet until the grateful woman returned to her kin.

     Finding himself almost proud, the Italian asked, "You would just give away your pass like that? What if it was someone conning you into moving to a lower class or something? With this few passengers she probably doesn't even need to have an official pass to sit with her family."

     Antonio shook his head and replied, "Because I trust people, and mothers deserve to feel validated for trying." The Spaniard stood there for a while, staring at his pass, and Lovino realized he had almost forgotten Antonio's situation. His face flushed as he stammered for an apology, but his acquaintance cut in by waggling his marked arms comically, and adding, "Also, it seems that by this _star-crossed_ exchange, I am now your seat buddy." The Italian rolled his eyes at the terrible joke and tried to hide his embarrassment, leaning over to see the other young man's boarding pass, and then glancing at his to confirm. He groaned and in general pretended to be incredibly let down but felt pleased that he could continue talking to the interesting traveler with constellations in his arms. If  anything, the ridiculous man kept his mind off of what was waiting for _him_ at the end of the ride. Antonio grinned, tucking his pass in his back pocket. "Looks like we'll get that chat afterwards."


	3. Chapter 3

     It only took a few minutes for early boarders to finish, and the other passengers began to walk the partition between the airport and their plane. In the relative silence punctuated occasionally by bags being hastily zipped and excited glances from Antonio, Lovino thought about what would happen when his much-anticipated plane ride finally came to an end. His brother was distressed beyond words at their grandfather's death and was still regularly leaving voice mails for Lovino to find as he woke up. The corner of his mouth curled up slightly as he imagined just how well his brother's emotionally constipated fuckwad of a boyfriend must be handling  _that._

The Italian's lack of response to his brother's calls wasn't caused by scorn or lack of emotion, if Lovino was being honest it was because he was terrified that once he called and started crying, he wouldn't be able to stop. Despite his efforts, late at night when he couldn't think of anything else alone in his house, he found himself biting his lip until it bled, trying to force back his muffled sobs. Sometimes they were so harsh that he could convince himself that he was choking, which somehow felt less painful. 

     The worst night had been after the will reading, the sting of stunned whispers and muffled retorts when it was revealed that Roma's estate would be split evenly between his two grandsons. Lovino's rush of pride had been quickly constricted as he looked around at all the black stares directed towards him. 

     'The village has always thought I was a black sheep. Even before I moved away', Lovino mused as he placed his baggage in an upper compartment. 'Even I was surprised Feli didn't get the lion's share.' He was shocked back into reality by a gentle nudge to the ribs. The Italian found himself staring into expressive emerald eyes as Antonio gently reminded him, "Hey, Lov, it's time to sit down."

     Both passengers sat dazedly through the safety presentation, Antonio bolting up with concern as a steward tripped, and then settling back down in a fit of quiet laughter after she assured everyone that he was 'quite fine'. Lovino caught himself winding a curl of hair around his finger as the pilot gave her parting remarks, and the half-empty plane soon began rolling down the tarmac.

     The Italian had been on countless flights for business, but found himself white-knuckling the armrests as they began take off. Antonio turned his head to make a joke about the clumsy but well-meaning steward who had just spilled juice all over another passenger, but stopped when he noticed the look in his acquaintance's eyes.

     "Lovino? Are you okay?"

     The young man beside him grit his teeth and nodded, muttering, "I'm not usually like this." 

     The Spaniard nodded, and started to remark on their surroundings, "The plane feels like a hotel room that's been recently left... It's clean and-"

     Lovino snapped, blood draining from his face, "Why the hell are you describing the plane to me, I know exactly what it looks like. I can see."

     Antonio laughed and shifted back into his padded blue chair. "Shh... I'm trying to distract you from the takeoff." He straightened the collar of his shirt and continued, "Like I was saying, the plane feels like a hotel room that you've just left, not because it's messy or anything, I mean it's very clean, but an airplane's purpose is to lead people to new places and adventures, but our plane just gives you the vague sense of 'leaving'."

     The Italian frowned, hands still tightly clasped around his armrests, "That's because we  _are_ leaving."

     Antonio made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat and waved his hand in the air vaguely. "I wouldn't really say that you always feel like you're  _leaving,_ though. Usually the purpose of a plane is for you to  _go._ Although the only other non-Madrid reason I've been on a plane was for my friend's bachelor party in Vegas, and my companions were already completely wasted when we boarded, so I suppose that would feel like an adventure no matter how you're getting there."

    Lovino hissed through his teeth, astounded, "They let  _drunk people_ on the plane? Do you realize how dangerous that could be?"

     The Spaniard shrugged. "Well, my one friend is German-" Lovino snorted in scorn, "-so he could hold his liquor pretty well. They didn't really notice anything. And then my other friend, Francis, thought it would be hilarious to speak exclusively in French, so I mean it's harder to tell when someone is slurring their words if they're speaking a foreign language, so, wait-."

     Lovino raised an eyebrow, shifting over in his seat to look at the other passenger. "Yes?"

     "Do you have something against Germans?"

     Lovino snorted again and pulled out of his wallet as he replied, "My brother is hopelessly devoted to this fuckwad German who's like an American wet dream, blonde hair, blue eyes, muscular and emotionally stagnant." He rifled through his wallet, confused. "I had a picture in here, they just went on their five-year anniversary."

     Antonio waved his hand, smiling. "I'm sure you'll find it. We've got the entire ride." He glanced down at the Italian's hands, now removed from the armrests as he put his wallet away sheepily. "It seems like you're feeling better."

     Lovino nodded, rubbing his fingers over the seam of his slacks. "Yeah, I think the worst is over." He looked up at the man across from him, and realized that his green eyes seemed to be the brightest objects in the plane. He peered out into the aisle, throat tightening in embarrassment when Antonio looked over and he was caught staring.. "Isn't someone supposed to be coming around with drinks?

     Antonio shrugged, pulling Lovino's attention back in as he continued the conversation. "So if you hate your brother's boyfriend so much, do you have the opposite? Is there some brunette, slim, _romantically_ expressive significant other waiting for you to come home?"

      Lovino tried to laugh in shock, but ended up sucking in too much air and having a coughing fit. Flustered, he tried to stop as quickly as possible and reply, bright red from the little fit and his surprise. "I- uh, no. The last significant other I had I broke up with about two years ago. He was a newspaper editor near my office in San Francisco. Talked too much." 

     His seat companion grinned. "Sorry to hear that."

     The Italian raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You don't really look the part."

     Antonio shook his head, apologetic. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to look joyful in your pain." Now he seemed to be the one embarrassed, eyes darting around until he waved at the stewardess a few rows ahead of them. "Hello, will someone be bringing the drink cart around soon? My friend here was wondering."

     Lovino nudged the Spaniard in his ribs, mumbling, "Did you really have to put it off on  _me?_ "

    Antonio continued happily as if he hadn't heard, nodding as the stewardess explained that because of the lack of passengers they would simply be taking orders. "Well, I know I would  _love_ some orange juice. Lov?"

     Lovino scowled, "First of all, stop calling me that. Secondly," he turned to the stewardess and flashed her a quick smile, "I would really appreciate if you could grab me some coffee. I've got a long day ahead of me. Thank you."

    The stewardess quickly returned with their drink orders, and Antonio insisted on clinking his plastic cup against his seat partner's, despite Lovino's protests that they wouldn't make any kind of sound and would most likely result in both of them being soaked in one another's drinks. 

     As the Italian sipped his surprisingly hot coffee, he stared over the rim of his cup at Antonio, who was happily downing his orange juice as if it were a large shot, large green eyes bright with happiness. As he finished his drink, Lovino decided he would focus on those bright Spanish eyes during the flight. After all, their surroundings were dim and uninteresting, maybe it would help him pass the time. 


End file.
